


All I Want For Satinalia

by scatteringmyashes



Series: Fenris Appreciation Month 2k18 [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Fenris is Bad at Feelings, Fluff, Gift Giving, Holidays, M/M, POV Alternating, Relationship Advice, Satinalia, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-03 00:03:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16797418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scatteringmyashes/pseuds/scatteringmyashes
Summary: It's the week before Satinalia and Fenris has no idea what to get Hawke for their first holiday properly together. What does he get for a man who can buy anything? And how can Fenris properly demonstrate how much Hawke means to him?Good thing his friends are there to help give suggestions. This is going to be a Satinalia Fenris and Hawke won't ever forget.





	All I Want For Satinalia

**Author's Note:**

> Yay first day of Fenris Appreciation Month! This is super cute, super sitcom-y, and way longer than it was supposed to be.
> 
> There are a few references to my other Fenhawke story, [The Worst Date,](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16441052) but I promise you don't have to read it to understand this.
> 
> Enjoy!

ISABELA - DAY ONE

For once, Isabela wasn’t day drinking or slinking around the shadows looking for trouble. She was out having fun, enjoying the fresh air wafting off the Lowtown docks. It was a rare occasion wherein the smell of the foundries weren't spewing toxic smoke into the air faster than it could dissipate, allowing her to relish in the sea breeze. The sun was out, her tunic loose, and her daggers sharp. It wasn't even snowing anymore. What more could a girl ask for? 

“Isabela!” 

She turned around, one hand going to her daggers. She relaxed when she saw that she was not in danger. Rather, her good friend Fenris was walking over at a brisk pace. 

Her face broke into a wide grin. “Well, well, has Hawke finally realized he can't spend every waking moment with you?” 

Fenris snorted. He was wearing a heavy cloak over his armor, though Isabela saw that Hawke still failed to convince him of the wonderful benefits of real shoes. Instead, Fenris had wrapped his feet in old rags. It wasn't her business to tell anyone how to live — she was walking around with hardly any clothes on after all — but she did worry about his toes. 

“Hawke is busy. And I wished to speak to you.” Fenris had red in his cheeks. It took Isabela a moment to realize it was more than just the cold air — he was blushing. 

“Sure!” Isabela reached out and locked arms with him before pulling him along. Fenris rolled his eyes but didn't resist. “So what do you need my help with? Looking for a few tips and tricks to spice up your personal life?” 

“Er… no, not quite.” 

“Ah, one day.” Isabela tilted her head. “What are you looking for? Don't you usually ask Sebastian for all your deep personal advice?” 

“I thought you may be able to help more. You are close to Hawke, yes?” 

Isabela nodded, trying to remain casual even as she wracked her brain in an attempt to see where this was going. Fenris seemed nervous, but it was hard to tell. He could be anxious about the conversation or the physical touch or any manner of things. 

“Did you and Daggers get into a fight?” Isabela asked. 

“What? No,” Fenris replied, eyes wide. He sighed. “I… I am struggling to decide what he would want for Satinalia.” 

Isabela smiled and gave him a side-hug. “Aw, that's right! You two haven't ever been in a relationship during the holidays. This is so cute. What did you get him last year?” 

“I… I got him a new sharpening stone and sword oil,” Fenris admitted. Isabela groaned. “I know, I know—” 

“Aveline has gotten him that for the last eight years!” 

“I panicked. I did not realize that it was coming up and…” Fenris gestured with his free arm. “He liked it well enough.” 

“Okay,” Isabela said with a slightly sinking feeling. “What did you get him the year before that?” 

“I often get him a weapon and a bottle of wine. One year I gifted him a painting of a Ferelden town and he cried.” 

Isabela knew about that painting. It was hanging up in the lounge at the estate, big and ugly and probably done by someone preying on refugees missing home. Of course, Hawke said that he hated Ferelden and had no good memories of it, but… well, he didn't act like it. 

“So you need to get creative,” Isabela said. “You two are finally together and that's wonderful. We were all getting sick of your mutual pining. But this just means you have so many other options. Have you thought about gifting yourself?” 

Fenris gave Isabela a flat look. She realized her mistake and rolled her eyes, raffling Fenris's hair with her free hand. 

“You know what I mean. Dress up — or down, either I suppose — and pose seductively in his bedroom. No man can resist the person of his dreams in lingerie, man or woman.” 

“I am not doing that.” Fenris scowled and brushed his hair back into its usual sloppy mess. “I was thinking of — of chocolates. Or pastries.” 

Isabela wondered if this was what Sebastian meant when he said that all people would be tested by the Maker. 

“Come on, Fenris. Hawke is a hot-blooded Ferelden man. It's cold, you two are hot — do the math!” Isabela arched her hand in the air. “Just imagine how excited he would be if he came home one day with you, naked as the day you were born, except for a red ribbon around your—” 

_“No.”_

Isabela’s laughter echoed throughout the docks.

MERRILL - DAY TWO

“No, no, don't leave us! What are we supposed to do without you?” Isabela begged, clinging onto Aveline's leg as she sprawled on the floor of the Hanged Man. Aveline made a vaguely disgusted noise and gingerly pulled Isabela off. 

“I have to be a responsible person. One of us has to,” she chided. Aveline gave the rest of the group a smile, which Merrill returned eagerly. “Have a good night, you all. And make sure you get home safe. Fenris, your buddy is Merrill tonight whether or not you like it,” Aveline said. 

“Hmph.” Fenris looked back at the cards in his hand. He seemed to nestle a bit closer to Hawke, except that Fenris did not _nestle._ At least, not as far as Merrill knew. 

Besides, Fenris was a bit too spiky for that to be comfortable. 

“I'm sure it'll be fine, Aveline! I only got lost twice this week,” Merrill told her. She looked at her cards and then glanced at Isabela. “I think I have a good hand, so I raise,” she announced. 

Isabela pat her on the head. “Oh, Kitten, you're so earnest but you really don't know how to play this game. I call.” 

“I have nugshit.” Varric tossed his cards in the center. 

“Call,” Fenris declared. Hawke also called and Sebastian, who abstained from playing when he didn't feel like spending the coin, dealt the next turn. 

The game went on for a little while longer, though Merrill stopped playing and decided to just watch when she had won more gold than she had arrived with. Besides, it was far more fun to look over Isabela’s shoulder and squint at the others to try and see if they were cheating. Merrill knew she wasn't very good at telling one way or the other yet, but Isabela was helping her learn. Hawke, for example, tended to tap his fingers on the table when he was impatient. Varric huffed and shifted in his seat when he was trying to make a difficult decision.

Fenris, though, had very few tells. Even Isabela admitted that she had trouble figuring out what he was feeling. Merrill thought that Fenris must be very lonely, still, to keep himself so shut off and distant from everyone. He never came to the alienage either, and as far as Merrill knew didn't talk to other elves at all. She had offered to introduce him to people, but he always brushed her off as if the idea of spending more time with her was absolutely repulsive. 

So when it was time to leave — Coriff was eyeing their group like they were the sole reason he wasn't at home asleep, which was technically true — Merrill wasn't surprised when Isabela offered to walk her home instead of Fenris. What did surprise Merrill, however, was when Fenris shook his head.

“The moment Aveline discovers I did not walk Merrill twenty minutes to the alienage is when I discover tax collectors at my door,” Fenris muttered. He glanced at Hawke and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. Merrill grinned and shared a look with Sebastian, who was also smiling. “Do not get into any fights without me,” Fenris told Hawke. 

“What, me? Get into fights? Never.” Hawke smirked. “Walk home safe,” he said. Then he looked over at Sebastian and extended a hand to him. “Will you be my escort home, good sir?” 

Sebastian chuckled but took Hawke's arm in his. He waved goodbye to the others before the two rogues were out the door, Hawke stumbling and a little off-balance thanks to the alcohol. 

Fenris regarded Merrill with a look that she once saw the Keeper give a group of particularly meddlesome children. “Let’s go.” He walked away before Merrill could even respond. 

Merrill quickly caught up, smiling at Fenris and clapping her hands together as she kept up with his fast pace. “So, I had a question for you!” 

“What?” His tone was flat and uninterested, but Isabela had warned Merrill about that and she was prepared. If Fenris wasn't going to be enthusiastic about their conversation, then she was going to have to provide the excitement for both of them.

“This is the first Satinalia you and Hawke have ever celebrated together, isn't it?” Merrill saw Fenris's left eye twitch. “Excellent. So you must be planning on getting him something nice.” 

“Did Isabela talk to you?” Fenris asked. 

“About what? We talk a lot.” Merrill gave him the most innocent look she could manage. He stared at her for a moment, his stride actually faltering, before he huffed and kept going. “Anyways, I had a few ideas—”

“I don't care.”

“Oh, but they're very good. I promise you, they're gifts that anyone would be happy to receive.” 

“I don't trust you.” 

“Well, they're only suggestions. No one is making you listen to me,” Merrill pointed out. 

“Fine. If I let you tell me, will you be quiet the rest of the night?” Fenris snapped. 

“Certainly!” Merrill had no intention of doing as he asked, but she wasn't going to lead with that. “I think you should gift him something you made. In the clan, we would all give each other handmade gifts and they were always the most thoughtful. And that way, Hawke will know how special he is! It'll be something that's one of a kind.”

Fenris gave Merrill a soul-withering look. She shot it right back at him with a smile. In a rare moment of vulnerability, Fenris shook his head. He looked downcast, ears drooping ever so slightly. 

“I was a slave but not a craftsworker or field slave. I was a warrior. The only things I know how to do with my hands are kill people.” He sighed. “I know Hawke will have something interesting planned. He already has informed me that he has a schedule for the entire day.”

“And how much of this day includes killing people?” Merill asked, genuinely curious. 

“Knowing Hawke, either all of it or none of it, but there will be bloodshed over something.” Fenris shrugged. “It is good that I will be there for when he gets into a fight. The blood, at least, will not be his.”

Personally, Merrill thought that Hawke and Fenris’s relationship could use less blood, but she wasn’t quite brave enough to mention it. 

“Well, what if you got Hawke something that you could do together? You two kill people together, so you could always get him a new dagger—”

Fenris groaned and sped up. 

AVELINE & DONNIC - DAY THREE

It wasn’t uncommon for Donnic to stay late at Fenris’s during card night, but it was rather unusual for Aveline to be able to secure the time off and join him. Of course, they asked Fenris first and he graciously agreed that Aveline would be a delight. Being freed from her desk for a night, Aveline did her best to not groutch at Varric or roll her eyes at some of the taller tales he spun. She also did her best not to get fleeced out of the coin she brought — Sebastian was surprisingly crafty when he wanted to be. 

“I have plenty of experience,” was all he would say on the matter.

But eventually Varric begged off, citing an early morning meeting with one of his many underground contacts. Sebastian left soon after, stating that he had to prepare for the morning service. He asked if Aveline and Donnic would be there in his usual calm tone.

“Yes,” Aveline said, “I am scheduling guards to attend at least one Chantry service, so that no one can complain that work is preventing them from celebrating the holiday’s religious aspect.” 

Sebastian nodded. “Understandable. I’m sure that the people under your service appreciate it.” 

Donnic muttered something to Fenris, who hid his smile behind his cards. Aveline rolled her eyes but let the men have their fun. Sebastian took his leave and, as the last ones remaining, Aveline and Donnic went about helping to clean up. At least, they helped clean the cards and set aside the dirty mugs. The mansion itself was a mess that neither quite cared to clean. 

Aveline was still pretty sure that even being in the mansion was unsafe, but it hadn’t collapsed in on itself yet so… at least there was that.

“So, Aveline, how are you and Donnic celebrating Satinalia?” Fenris asked, voice rather calm considering the unusually personal question. Aveline could count on one hand the amount of times Fenris, in the last half decade or so, had asked her about her plans for _anything_ — and she had gotten married!

“Well, we both have to work. Satinalia is the busiest day of the year, actually. For some reason, every drunk in Kirkwall thinks that we’re not going to be out there and then, when they see us, they think that we’re so full of goodwill that we won’t arrest them.” Aveline shook her head. 

“But we spend the evening together. Last year we had a small meal and exchanged gifts,” Donnic added. “It’s not easy shopping for someone you love, but you find a way.” He smiled at Aveline. 

“Right. And how do you find that?” Fenris continued, glancing between Aveline and Donnic like they had the secrets to the universe.

It hit Aveline first, then Donnic, and the two both paused. Aveline debated skirting around the issue but, well, that had never worked for her in the past and there was certainly no reason it would start now. 

“Fenris, are you still looking for a gift to give Hawke?” She asked. She watched Fenris open his mouth to argue, close his mouth, and then nod sullenly. For a moment, she felt endless amounts of gratitude that Donnic didn’t want children anytime soon. Then she felt guilty for comparing Fenris to a child. He was a full grown adult, even if his past had left him with any number of emotional scars as well as the physical. 

Aveline sighed and crossed her arms. “You know, Hawke is a very practical person. He would like something useful, something he needs… I suggest nice parchment and a new quill.” 

Donnic coughed. “I think what my dear wife is trying to say is that Hawke, for all his gold, is horrible at actually taking care of himself. Do you know if he is the type to use bathing oils? I know that they help encourage someone to actually relax.” He knew because he had given Aveline some for her birthday and, yes, they did encourage her to see baths as more than just a bare necessity. 

“I was considering gifting him new clothes and a few pastries from his favorite bakery…” Fenris trailed off. He actually looked nervous. Aveline struggled to think of a good way of reassuring him.

“You know what is always a good method of expressing affection?” Donnic said. 

“What?” Fenris raised an eyebrow, turning towards his friend. Aveline leaned in a little closer, genuinely interested in the answer.

“Copper marigolds.” 

Fenris laughed. Aveline did not.

ANDERS - DAY FOUR

They were walking through Darktown looking for some crooks or slavers or someone even more morally questionable than Hawke and his friends when Anders opened his mouth.

“You know—”

“I don’t care,” Fenris interrupted.

“You really—” 

“No.” Fenris held his clawed gauntlets up, examining them in the pale Darktown light. “I do not care for your opinion on mages. Why would I care for your opinion on anything else?” 

“Fine. Suit yourself.” Anders shut up for the rest of the trip. That, Fenris considered, was a real Satinalia miracle.

SEBASTIAN - DAY FIVE

In all honesty, Sebastian was unsurprised when Fenris came to him in the Chantry and asked if they could speak in private. Certainly, the two were close. Sebastian prided himself in being able to call himself one of Fenris's closest friends. 

“Speak what is on your mind,” Sebastian said as the two of them sat in one of the unoccupied prayer rooms. Satinalia may be only a few days away, but that didn't mean that everyone was more pious. Sebastian knew for a fact that some folks put even more effort into avoiding the Chantry and any of the spontaneous services hosted in Lowtown or Darktown.

Fenris worried his bottom lip. It had a slightly healed cut, no doubt aggregated by the cold. He wasn't meeting Sebastian's eyes. 

“You know I would never judge you.” A moment passed. “Does this have anything to do with Satinalia coming?” Sebastian continued.

“... Yes,” Fenris confessed. “Does everyone know of my problems, or—” 

“I have not been told of anything by anyone,” Sebastian promised truthfully. “But I have guessed. Hawke has asked for ideas as of what to do for you. I imagine that a similar thought has come to you?” 

Head still tilted down, Fenris nodded. “I wish to make this as important as it should be. He has brought so much happiness to me and I… I cannot think of anything better than buying him some chocolates and a new coat.” Fenris groaned, putting his face in his hands. He mumbled something that Sebastian didn't catch.

Sebastian rubbed him on the back. “You make Hawke happy by being with him. And I think that chocolate and a new coat would be an excellent gift… but, ah, I should let you know that Isabela bought Hawke a jacket and I believe that Merrill is baking him a pie.” 

A loud groan escaped Fenris as he pushed the palms of his hands into his eyes. Sebastian felt a little concerned considering the gauntlets gave Fenris claws, but it looked like this was something Fenris was used to doing. All Sebastian could do was continue to give his back a rub, though he kept a close eye to make sure that he wasn't overstepping any boundaries. 

“I'm sure that Hawke would appreciate it regardless. Maker knows that the man goes through plenty of clothes every week.” Sebastian winced, just thinking about the amount of blood Hawke had gotten on his Champion armor last time they were all out on a trip. Poor Orana really had her work cut out just on laundry. 

“Maybe I could purchase him a journal… or I could go with Isabela’s suggestions…” Fenris looked up at Sebastian. “She believes Hawke would want something a bit more, ah, physical.” 

It didn't take a genius to guess as to what Isabela thought that Fenris should do. Sebastian decided not to ask. 

“Hawke is a good man. He would enjoy anything with you. Oh! You could gift him your time.” 

“My… time?” 

“Yes. Go on a picnic with him or somewhere else special.” Sebastian grinned. “Maybe go on your first date again. Relive the good memories.” 

“Yes, because there is nothing more romantic than Hawke almost dying.” 

“Well, it worked, did it not?” Sebastian felt his smile widen even further. “Hawke enjoys your company more than even his nicest dagger. Do not worry so much about what to get him. It will be wonderful just spending time together,” Sebastian reassured Fenris. 

“I… I suppose so.” He bit his lip again. “It won't make me seem cheap? Or desperate?... though I suppose I am… I just want to make him happy.” 

Sebastian chuckled. “You want to make him happy, Fenris. You won't disappoint.” 

VARRIC - DAY SIX

“What brings you to my humble abode?” Varric asked, spreading his arms out. He grinned ear to ear, eyes following Fenris as he walked over to where Varric sat at the end of his ridiculously long table. Fenris usually walked with a bit of a hunch — either a remnant of his time as a slave or due to the weight of his massive greatsword or both — but today he really did look like a dark cloud followed him. 

That meant that either he and Hawke had broken up again or that Hawke had gotten himself hurt. Knowing the eccentric James Hawke, it was probably both. 

“You look like someone stole your favorite sword,” Varric quipped. “Take a seat. I was just writing a few letters to manage my vast criminal empire. Nothing important.” 

Fenris sat. He gingerly picked up one of the papers and squinted at the sloppy cursive. After a moment, he snorted. 

“You are writing more of your bad friend fiction,” he accused. 

“Your words wound my heart,” Varric said. He put his hands over his heart, but quickly decided to save his writing from Fenris's wrath. “Seriously, Elf, what's on your mind? You only come to talk to me when something's wrong or you owe me money.” He gathered up the pages and set them aside in a neat stack. 

A heavy, heavy sigh escaped Fenris. “I… am in need of your help.” 

“Hold the cryers, is Fenris really asking me for help? This is definitely something I need to write down—” Varric went to pick up his quill, but the ensuing glare from Fenris made him second-guess that decision. “I'm just joking, Fenris. What's wrong? Worried about your and Hawke's broody, broody babies?” 

“... what babies?” Fenris asked. He leaned over the table to try to get a better look at the friend fiction, but Varric relocated the papers before Fenris could read anything. 

“Don't worry about it!” 

“Mhmm…” Fenris sighed again. He leaned back, looking ever so dignified. “If you tell Hawke of this, I will burn your manuscript to ash. Understand?” 

“Crystal clear,” Varric said, as if he didn't have multiple copies of everything he wrote. “What's on your mind, Fenris?” 

“I… I have been having difficulty… I am unsure of what to get Hawke for Satinalia.” 

Varric did his best not to laugh. He really, really did. But in the end he was a weak dwarf and he couldn't help but burst into laughter. Thankfully, Fenris seemed less offended and more resigned. That was a good thing, because Varric liked having his heart in his chest. 

Still, Varric sobered up relatively quickly. “I'm laughing, Fenris, because you could give Hawke a pair of dirty trousers and he'd call you the star in his sky, the center of his storm, the beat in his heart—” 

“I would not give him a pair of dirty trousers — he finds enough of them on his own,” Fenris deadpanned. 

Varric grinned. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.” He gestured vaguely. “Look, Fenris, I'm serious. Get Hawke a fruit basket for Andraste's sake. The guy will cry, you'll kiss and make out and do other things—” 

“Sometimes I feel concerned about the amount of obsession other people have with my sex life.” Fenris shook his head. “I have no idea what to do, Varric. You and Hawke are close, perhaps—” 

“ _I'm serious, Fenris._ Hawke will love anything you get him. He loves you. He talks about you more than he talks about his daggers or murdering slavers. I've known the guy a little longer than you and I've never heard him talk about anything or anyone the way he talks about you. If you think I write poetics about you two, you should hear the way he speaks about you when he's drunk.” Varric thought about it. “Actually, no, don't. He’s not very coherent.” 

Fenris chuckled. “I've heard.” His face grew more serious. “I… I understand what you are stating, I merely worry. Hawke has done so much for me. And it is our first year together so I wish for it to be special. Something memorable.” 

“If you are attempting to be more memorable than your first date, then I hate to break it to you but you can't.” 

Fenris groaned. _Everyone_ remembered his first date with Hawke many years ago. It was all the group would talk about for a solid three months, not in the least because it included Hawke's near death. Now, it seemed, everyone was bringing it back up.

“What are you getting Hawke?” Fenris asked. 

“Nope, no stealing my ideas,” Varric chided. He leaned forward, meeting Fenris's eyes. “Whatever you get Hawke, he will adore. Just try not to get him anything that will encourage his recklessness. I'm trying to keep him alive through the new year.” 

“Only the new year?” 

“Well…” Varric hesitated. Fenris raised an eyebrow. “I may have bet on Hawke keeping all his limbs. So I have a financial stake in this.” 

“Who bet against him?” Fenris asked, starting to stand. 

“Whoa, calm down. Don't worry, the guy is an idiot. But he's a rich idiot who doesn't like Ferelden upstarts. I… merely took advantage of the situation.” Varric shrugged. “Anyways, hopefully you have a few ideas. If you want an empty barrel or some other trash, I'm sure Coriff has some..” 

“Thank you, Varric.”Now Fenris did stand, nodding at Varric. “I do appreciate… most of your advice.” 

“My advice is great. Better than Isabela, right?” 

Fenris paled. Varric coughed, realizing his mistake. 

“Ah, I mean — I definitely don't know anything about that! Not at all. Nothing has been talked about, certainly not Isabela’s very detailed and descriptive suggestions—” 

Fenris swore. He shook his head, not surprised but more annoyed. “I knew I shouldn't have asked her.” 

“Hey, she did give you a suggestion. More than one, and for multiple places.” Varric's eyes wrinkled with amusement. 

“Yes, well, as I said. Sometimes I am very concerned with how interested in my sex life my friends happen to be.” 

“It's all out of love, Fenris. It's all out of love.” Varric could see a torch light up in Fenris's brain. “What are you thinking, Elf?” 

“Do not concern yourself with it,” Fenris replied. “Thank you, Varric. You have given me plenty to think about. And I do believe I have an idea.” He left the room before Varric could even ask. 

HAWKE - DAY SEVEN 

“Good morning, Fenris. Are you awake yet?” Hawke asked as he walked back into his bedroom, holding a breakfast tray in his hands. He sat next to Fenris, who was blurry-eyed with the last vestiges of sleep. The tray went on the bedside table, leaving Hawke's arms open so he could eagerly pull Fenris close. Hawke pressed soft kisses to the top of Fenris's head, smile wider than ever before. “How did you sleep?” 

“Hmph. Sleep,” Fenris mumbled. He yawned and looked up at Hawke. Not for the first time, Hawke thought about how he was the most fortunate man in Thedas. 

He smiled and reached over into his bedside table. He rummaged around one of the drawers for a moment before finally finding what he was looking for. 

“Happy Satinalia,” he said. Hawke set the small package in front of Fenris. 

It took Fenris a moment to realize there was anything there for him. His eyes were closed as he slowly pulled himself out of sleep’s grasp. Eventually they opened and focused on the present. He snorted.

“I thought we were only exchanging gifts later,” he said.

“I lied. I'm a dastardly rogue, remember?” Hawke teased. 

Fenris poked him in the side and Hawke yelped. “Yes, very dastardly.” Fenris straightened up and yawned. Then he reached for the gift and carefully opened it up as Hawke continued to kiss his head. Fenris's expression slowly morphed from curiosity to surprise to wonder. 

With wide eyes, Fenris looked at Hawke. “Where did you get this?”

“I know people. Do you like it?” 

“Yes. Very much so.” Fenris carefully held the book in his hands like it was worth its weight in gold. Which, honestly, it was — it was hard to get fully illustrated, gilded in gold, copy of _A Slave's Life_ in its original Tevene.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t in Ancient Tevene, but it was Tevene and the thought was what counted. 

“I thought… do you remember my first present to you?” Hawke asked, not wanting to assume.

“Of course. I was shocked that you would give me anything. But it is still one of my most prized possessions.” Fenris snorted. “I suppose I should invest in a real bookshelf.” 

“Anything that is mine is yours,” Hawke immediately said. Fenris leaned back, nestled as close as he could against Hawke's chest. “And you know, you don't owe me anything for this. Consider it part one of your gift.”

“Oh, well, I also got you several things.” 

“Oh? And where are you hiding them?” Hawke asked, making a show of looking around the bed and running his hands up and down Fenris's body. Fenris yelped and, as Hawke pat him down, broke into giggles. “Is it there?” Hawke tickled Fenris's armpits. “Or there?” He tickled his sides. 

“You fiend,” Fenris exclaimed, a wide smile plastered onto his face even as he finally twisted around and pinned Hawke's arms to his sides. “No sneak peeks.” He kissed Hawke's lips. 

Hawke felt his heart close to bursting with affection. “Of course not. I eagerly await the reveal.” 

The two ate breakfast together. Hawke was practically vibrating out of his skin in excitement. He had the entire day planned, down to the hour, in hopes of making this absolutely perfect for Fenris. This wasn't the first Satinalia they had celebrated together, but it was the first time they were in a relationship for the holiday. And while Hawke was not the most romantic of men, he was determined to do this right. 

They were on a walk through Hightown, enjoying the light snowfall that had hit the city the night before as well as the decorations many of the noble houses put up as signs of wealth, when Fenris suddenly stopped.

“Is everything okay?” Hawke asked. He started reaching for the daggers on his hips, glancing across the street in search of someone dangerous. 

“I want to give you your gift.” 

“I really have no idea what you are giving me,” Hawke admitted even as he kissed Fenris on the forehead. The two faced each other, Hawke's hands on Fenris's hips. Fenris ran his hands down Hawke's jacket. The two were bundled up, even Fenris's feet, thanks to the cold. “Are you giving me a kiss, because—”

Fenris kissed Hawke. It was a very effective method of shutting Hawke up. 

Temporarily, at least. 

“Because I would love that,” Hawke finished. Fenris snorted. 

“Here.” He reached into one of his belt pockets and pulled out a corded length of leather. It was made out of a dark red, almost black leather, and was long enough to go twice around Hawke's wrist. 

He instantly recognized it as a special bracelet that came in pairs, since it was sold at a stall that he had to pass every time he went to The Hanged Man. 

“I love it,” Hawke said earnestly. “But why so nervous? It's perfect. I can use it to kill people and it's beautiful. Like you,” Hawke concluded. 

Fenris's eyes rolled so hard that Hawke was pretty sure that he could see another universe. “Flatterer” A moment passed. “I have worn your favor for all these years. Do you know why I wore it initially?” 

Hawke shook his head. His heart still ached, even after all these years, thinking about how much it hurt to let Fenris walk away. But the favor — the red scrap and the crest — had given him hope that he hasn't completely ruined everything. It had been a quiet reassurance that Hawke, for all his failures, hadn't failed at this. 

“I wanted to let you know that I felt the same way. That I still cared for you. And this bracelet now…” Fenris pulled the matching piece of leather and carefully wrapped it on the same wrist that had the original red cloth. “It is a promise to you, Hawke. That as long as I wear your favors and this bracelet, that I will always be yours. That I will live by your side and fight in your battles and sleep in your bed. There is nowhere I would rather be.”

There was only one thing Hawke could think, but he didn't have the words to express it. So he just kissed Fenris, hand tangling in his hair and chest pressed to chest. Their lips parted and tongues met. Hawke's heart was beating out of his chest. He could feel Fenris moan against him, Fenris wrapping his arms around Hawke and keeping him close. 

Someone walked by and muttered something disparaging. 

Hawke pulled away, hand dropping to his dagger. “Say that again, I dare you.” 

Intelligently, the stranger walked a little faster away from the two. Hawke turned back to Fenris, smiling again. He pressed their foreheads together, breathing in and relishing in the sensation of safety and comfort that Fenris provided. 

“Only one thing, Fenris?”

“Yes, my dear?”

“Our battles. Our bed. Everything I own is yours. Everything I have is yours. Forever. This is my promise to you.” Hawke pressed his lips against Fenris's forehead “Happy Satinalia, Fenris.”

“Happy Satinalia, Hawke.”


End file.
